


Smolder

by LazuliAlekto



Series: Burn [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2019-02-09 02:37:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12878397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LazuliAlekto/pseuds/LazuliAlekto
Summary: part two of burnHow exactly did one stop a rumour circulating when the population of Lucis loved to gossip about the royal family?





	Smolder

  Perfectly pressed pants and paperwork.

  That’s what most people around the citadel thought of the King’s Chamberlain, Advisor and Chief Strategist.

  Others might have noted his calm demeanour, how he was always controlled in his thoughts, words and actions.  The members of the Crownsguard and Kingsglaive that he trained with would agree with that, but they got to see a slightly different side.

  They saw the sassy, savage side.

  Ignis Scientia was very much a savage man on the battlefield.  He kept the sass for taunting his opponents in the training arena, stalking them like a coeurl after prey, spinning the twin daggers in his fists like they were mere toys and not honed weapons that could pin a fly to the wall from across the room.  In the field he was lethal, merciless, deadly.  Behind his back he was called the Assassin.

  He’d begun his training with the Crownsguard at just fifteen, early for most applicants.  The only other members who had started sooner were Cor ‘the Immortal’ Leonis who had been a fully admitted member at that age, and the King’s Shield, Gladiolus Amicitia, who came from a long line of Amicitia’s that were all King’s Shields and had been admitted at a fairly young age to ensure he was as ready as he could be. 

  Ignis was inducted into the Crownsguard as a fully trained member at eighteen, again, almost unheard of.  It was like anything he did, he approached it with full determination and a desire to be the best he could for his then Prince, now King.  If Gladiolus was his Shield, Ignis would be his Sword.  That was how he thought of it.  He had trained with all weapons and was somewhat adept with them all, but his real lethality lay with daggers and polearms.  He was scary, even to the Kingsglaive, when he had those in his hands, very few willing to train or spar with him after a few years.  It could be demoralising. 

  He took to the acrobatic nature of daggers and polearms like a chocobo to gyshal greens, his lithe tall frame being built for the flips and twists that were a natural part of the art of blade work.  Once he had added that to the repertoire of moves, he was nigh on unstoppable.  Two men gave him pause when he twirled his daggers.  Nyx Ulric, Kingsglaive and one of his teachers, and the King himself. 

  Noctis Lucis Caelum had begged Ignis to teach him after he had witnessed one his sessions with Ulric, the then Prince pleading that he needed the best.  And as far as he was concerned, Ignis Scientia was the best at everything he did.  Nyx had agreed with the then Prince’s sentiment.  Ignis was close to Noctis, he knew him better than anyone else, he knew his strengths and weaknesses.  Noctis was slight and wiry, something he moaned about, but he was also stronger than he looked, having trained since he was six.  Nyx thought that if anyone could bring out the best in Noctis it would be Ignis.  He was right.  He may not be quite as flexible as Ignis when it came to twisting his body in the air and not exactly as pinpoint accurate as his Advisor, but he was creative and he could warp. 

  There were days that Ignis sometimes thought he might regret teaching his King, but it was only sometimes and only ‘might’, he was inordinately proud of the blade work that Noctis could display.  Even when he was flat on his back with the King straddling his hips, blade pressed to his throat and a smirk on his lips asking him to yield.  It didn’t happen every session, far from it, the situation was more likely to be a draw or end with Ignis straddling his King and looking down to see the slightly annoyed expression on reddened cheeks.  But when it did happen, Ignis would feel that swell of pride in his chest and smirk back at the King as he assisted him to his feet.

  What people did notice on first seeing Ignis Scientia was his looks.

  The man was truly gorgeous, not that he thought so much of himself.  “Nothing special,” was his comment.  That usually earned him a frustrated sigh from his comrades.  He was six-foot tall, lithe and muscled like a gymnast, fluid in his movements, graceful.  Light chestnut coloured hair that he sometimes styled in a pompadour, sometimes swept to the side to keep his fringe out of his eyes.  It was his eyes that people noticed once they were close enough to see beyond the glasses that they hid behind.  Viridian orbs that alternated between sea foam, peridot and light emerald depending on the light, bright with intelligence and unexpected humour.  He clad himself in tailored shirts, silk preferably, and pants, designer shoes that he was very fond of, Six help anyone that ruined his clothing or shoes.  It was his penchant for tailored clothing that gave away hints of the figure beneath.  And garnered him many an admiring glance from most ladies and more than a few men around the Citadel.

  But what almost no-one knew about was where he spent his nights away from prying eyes.

  The Queen knew, her acceptance being rather vital and necessary to Ignis’ comfort, it was a condition that he had insisted upon.  The Shield knew, as he was with both King or Queen most hours of the day and night, or stationed outside doors that could never quite muffle all conversation.  The King’s best friend, Prompto Argentum knew, simply by virtue of his position as confidant.  However, that was the extent of those who truly knew who Ignis Scientia was to the King.

  King’s Chamberlain, Advisor and Chief Strategist.  Life-long friend.  King’s Consort.

  Lunafreya, Queen of Lucis, had been relieved when Noctis had made his confession about Ignis.  She didn’t love the King in a romantic way and once they had provided heirs to the throne she was more than happy for him to continue his relationship with Ignis.  There was genuine affection between the two monarchs, however it was duty that kept them together more than love, another in a long line of politically motivated marriages.  The King’s relationship with his Advisor meant she was free to indulge in her own affairs should she wish, and apparently she did if Nyx Ulric’s presence in her chambers most evenings were any indication.  Luna had passion with Nyx, with Noctis she’d had perfunctory duty.

  In Ignis, Noctis had everything he ever wanted, love, desire, passion, a feeling of completeness, home.

  So, when the rumours started, Noctis panicked.  He could not lose Ignis.  He loved the man, adored him, needed him.  Life without Ignis wasn’t worth contemplating.  It was making him feel desperate, depressed.  And Ignis had distanced himself, trying to make sure that they weren’t photographed alone, that there was always someone else around, preferably Luna.  He hadn’t been in Noctis’ bed for a week.

  When they were in the same room, Ignis made sure they weren’t alone and he could see the strain around Ignis’ eyes.  It was killing them both to be so close yet so far apart.  Noct needed to talk to him, privately, to see where Ignis’ head was at.  To see what they were going to do, where they could go from here, how to deal with it.  As long as Noct had Ignis it would be ok.

  Noctis’ father had made things clear from the very beginning that they had to be discreet, to keep their private affairs just that.  Private.  When he’d allowed Noctis to become King by his side, he had reiterated that, no rumours must ever be allowed to circulate.  Not when Lunafreya was to become Noctis’ Queen and rule with him.  It made Regis sad to think his only son couldn’t be with the man he loved properly and out in the open, yet it had to be done.  Ignis and Noctis had been ok with that, as long as their nights were spent together, it was ok.  The secret had been kept, the select few who knew staying quiet.

  Having Ignis held Noctis on an even keel, he’d gone from being petulant, depressed and sullen most of the time to handling his duty with grace, something that Ignis had been thoroughly proud of, watching his lover become a King that would see Lucis flourish. 

  But now, in the wake of rumours swirling around the Citadel and in the press, Noct was lost, floundering and depression was resurfacing.  The bruised look to his eyes causing more than a few to wonder if the King was ill, Regis regarding his son with a pained expression that years of practice did little to hide.  When Regis inferred that perhaps their relationship should end, Noctis had flown into a rage, swearing and cursing every Astral major and minor before starting in on whoever had started the talk about Ignis being above his station, taking liberties, of being more than Chamberlain and Advisor.  His constant lament that it wasn’t fair echoing through Regis’ chambers.

  “No, it isn’t fair, my son, however, this is how it must be.  You and Ignis must quell these rumours, I shall leave it to you how you do this, but it _must_ happen,” Regis had quietly asserted and Noct collapsed under the weight of what his father was saying.

  How exactly did one stop a rumour circulating when the population of Lucis loved to gossip about the royal family?

  So, he sought out Ignis in the dead of night after weeks of being kept at arms length.

  He found Ignis curled up in a bed that he’d hardly ever slept in, eyes open, staring at the wall, unable to sleep.

  “You should not be here,” Ignis had whispered brokenly when Noctis settled himself on the edge of the bed beside him, still not touching, not reaching out as they were accustomed to.

  “I know,” Noct replied, head bowed, tears threatening, “I had to, we need to talk where no-one can see and you won’t come to me.  I miss you, Ingis, I hate this,” he hissed as he brought his fist down onto the soft duvet that Ignis hid under.  “I just want…I need you, Ignis, I can’t…” he gulped and fought down the tears.

  Ignis sat up and finally reached a hand out to stroke Noct’s arm, to make him unclench his fist, “I understand…”

  Noct knew he did, that it wasn’t just a platitude to make him feel better.  They were both hurting.

  “Speccy, I love you, it’s not fair that…that we…it’s not fair,” he murmured and Ignis pulled him into his arms, cradled him and pressed a kiss into his hair.

  “We became complacent, my love, someone must have seen something…I am afraid it was most likely my fault.  It has always been difficult to…hide how I feel about you,” Ignis said, his voice low, sad.

  “No, it’s not your fault…we wouldn’t even have to keep it secret if…” he waved his hand uselessly and Ignis nodded.

  “We knew it was how it had to be, my love and now…” Ignis trailed off.

  “Can we just, you know, ignore it, let it die down?” Noct asked hopefully and Ignis’ heart broke a little more.

  He couldn’t say the words, couldn’t tell the man he loved that it would most likely never die down, not with how they felt about each other, that they would be continually scrutinised every moment from now on.  Ignis’ silence spoke volumes and Noctis let his tears fall, sobbing as he let it all out.  Ignis wrapped his arms around his King, trying to hold back his own hot tears that burned in his eyes.

  Noctis turned in his arms and buried his face in Ignis’ chest, fingers desperately grasping at Ignis, trying to hold him close, to hold onto what he needed, the man he had given his whole heart to.  Ignis tightened his grip and shifted a little so that he could hold Noct they way he needed, to make him feel safe.

  When Ignis bent his head down to kiss Noct’s wet cheek, Noct turned his face up and their lips met, soft at first, then harder, Ignis groaning at how they were being stupidly reckless, knowing he should pull away.  But, like always, they gravitated to each other.

  “Noct, we can’t…” he tried to say when Noct pulled back to remove his shirt and his fingers made short work of the buttons on Ignis’ pajama top.

  “I don’t care,” Noct ground out and pulled Ignis back in to kiss him, deeper, his tongue questing after Ignis’ desperately, hands shoving the pajama top out of the way, his fingers coasting over Ignis’ bared skin.  Ignis couldn’t resist, he’d never been able to resist Noctis and therein lay their problem.

  In his heart, Ignis knew why he was letting this happen, it wasn’t just because he missed Noct’s touch, his kiss.  So he put everything he couldn’t say into it, not letting his mind go there, instead he let his hands touch, his mouth claim Noct’s, hoping to make it last, to etch the feel of Noctis into his soul, carve it into his heart.

  “I love you,” he mouthed into Noct’s taut neck, pressing teasing kisses to the fevered skin.  “I love you,” whispered to the chest that arched into his touch, his fingers ghosting down to free Noct from his pants.  Another “I love you,” as he kissed his way down Noct’s clenching stomach, revelling in the feel of his King’s hands tangled in his hair.  Noct’s hips stuttered up when he pushed him onto the bed and pulled his pants off, mouthing over his bared inner thighs, feeling the quivering skin beneath his lips and tongue.  He traced a path up to the flushed erection, whispering his love as he went.  Noct gasped brokenly when he took him in, tongue laving the velvety length, pressing, massaging, as he pushed Noct’s thighs further apart to settle between them, to worship, to perform an act of devotion, to serve in a way that no-one else could.

  He slowed the bobbing of his head to pull off for a moment, thrusting his fingers into his mouth, he coated them and then danced them around Noct’s rim, probing gently as Noct keened and canted his hips into it, willing Ignis to push them in.

  “I love you,” Ignis whispered again as he pushed first one then the other inside, his mouth then seeking the head of Noct’s cock, tongue swirling as his mouth clamped down.  The words echoed in his head, in time with the beating of his heart, in time with every thrust of his fingers, every bob of his head and Noct moaned and writhed above, begging him for more.  He curled his fingers and found the spot that Noct was desperate for him to brush over, the muffled cry from his King urging him on.

  “Ignis…” Noct pleaded, needy and desperate, clutching at his hair as Ignis delved his fingers in and out, coaxing more of the cries to fall from his lips.  “Please…”

  He pulled his fingers away, his mouth up and off with a slick pop and reached for the bedside drawer, searching for an old bottle of lube that had been left there. 

  He shucked his pajama pants off and readied himself, Noct watching him with dark eyes, lips reddened from biting and he closed his eyes to fuse the memory into his mind.  When he opened them again, Noct lifted his hips, his legs spread wide and inviting.  Ignis lined himself up and leaned over Noctis, mouth capturing his for a searing passionate kiss as he teased the hole with his tip.

  “I love you,” he sobbed brokenly as he pressed in, his voice lost in Noct’s groan of pleasure.

  “I love you, Ignis,” Noct panted as he began to thrust, slow, measured, deep.

  Ignis’ resolve to take this slow faltered with the tight heat that surrounded him and he lost himself as Noct curled his legs around his waist, urging him deeper, hands scratching at his back.  They rocked together faster and harder, tears rolling down Ignis’ face as he drove his tongue into Noct’s mouth, seeking the taste that was purely his lover.  The deeper he thrust, the higher pitched Noct’s moans and cries became, clenching down on Ignis’ cock inside him, pushing them both over the edge far harder and faster than Ignis wanted, yet it was still perfect in its way.

  A memory to cherish.

  Ignis eventually pulled out and found some tissues to clean his King, not meeting Noct’s searching gaze.  He helped him dress, then pulled him in for one last kiss.

  “You should go,” he whispered in to his ear, holding him tight.  “I love you Noct,” he said finally and let him go, turning away as his King retreated.  He held back more tears until he heard the soft click of his door closing, then threw himself on the bed and sobbed until dawn broke.

  Hours later he stood before Regis, eyes still red from crying, his head bowed, shoulder slumped as he made his request.

  “Is this what you want, Ignis?” Regis asked him quietly.

  “No, your Majesty, however it is for the best I believe.  I won’t allow Noct’s reputation to be ruined by…I can’t,” he ground out through gritted teeth as he struggled to maintain his composure.  “I love him too much to let that happen and he…he won’t…” Ignis faltered over the words.

  “He won’t let you go,” Regis sighed and shook his head, finishing what Ignis had been unable to say.  “I wish you could…”

  “Please…don’t,” Ignis muttered.  He couldn’t hear his lover’s father lament the fact they couldn’t be together as they wished.

  “Alright, I shall enquire into it and get back to you within a few days, Ignis,” Regis conceded sadly. 

  “Thank you, your Majesty,” Ignis said and bowed hastily before more tears could fall.

  “Ignis,” the King called as he was about to leave, “take these days off while I look into it, think about what you are doing, I know you think it best, however…”

  “Yes, your Majesty, I will,” he interrupted and then slipped out the door before Regis could say anything further.

  Three days later, days of hiding in his rooms and avoiding everyone, arguing with Noct over text, arguing round and round in circles, he received a message from King Regis.

  While he thought a weight would be lifted from his shoulders, it only seemed to settle further, bending him under its solid weight.

  Two days after the confirming message from Regis, Ignis stood on the ferry to Altissia, watching the shore line shrink in the distance, broken and hurting far more than he thought was humanly possible he tore his gaze away and headed below decks to ride out the trip.

  He hadn’t even told Noct he was leaving.

  “I love you,” he whispered to himself, hoping Noct would understand.

 

**Author's Note:**

> will be followed by Inferno, part three


End file.
